The Hill (9 page)

London dropped the envelope. “I'll wait. Can I buy you lunch?”

“Does it look like I need lunch?” Mary patted her belly. “I'm meeting my walking group at the wharf today.”

“That's great, Mary.”

“It's not so great, but it keeps my doctor happy.” She leveled a finger at Judd. “You take care of her, Judd Brody. She deserves the moon and the stars.”

London walked Mary out of the office into the outer area, where it looked as if Mary was giving Celine a few parting instructions.

London returned to the office laughing; that little vertical line that had been in place when she'd returned from the meeting had disappeared. “Mary is a character. Did she scare you?”

“Took me back to first grade.”

She tilted her head to one side. “I can't see you as a first grader. Shy loner?”

“Close—class clown.” He kicked out the chair Mary had just vacated. “How'd the meeting go?”

“Boring and largely incomprehensible.” She sank into the chair and then straightened her spine. “But really informative. I learned a lot.”

He flicked the envelope with his fingers. “Are you going to open this message from your father?”

“I thought the old man was dead.”

Judd glanced up at the open door to see London's cousin gripping the doorjamb.

London twisted in her chair. “Something more from the meeting, Niles?”

“No. Just heard the scuttlebutt about your new bodyguard and came to see for myself.”

“This is Judd Brody. Judd, this is my cousin, Niles Breck.”

Judd nodded but didn't rise. London didn't have to introduce him around as if he was her date.

“I'm glad you're watching my feckless cousin, but why do you need more security, London? Bunny told me what happened to you in the alley. I've told you before to use the front entrances and brave the paparazzi. At least they're not out to snatch your priceless jewels.”

“There have been a couple of incidents. Anyway, his salary is not coming out of your pocket, so don't worry about it.”

“What did I hear when I walked in? You got a message from your father? How did he manage that?”

A tall man came up behind Niles and tapped him on the shoulder. “Do you have those figures for me?”

“Did you come to check out the new guy in security, too, Wade?”

London's brother, tall and thin like his cousins, pursed his lips. “I did not, although I don't think it's a bad idea.”

“Brody.” Niles snapped his fingers. “Your brother is a homicide detective and your father—”

“That's right.” Judd crossed his arms.

Wade's detached demeanor sharpened at Niles's announcement, but he backed out of the office, nudging Niles. “Those figures?”

“Duty calls.” He tugged at the narrow lapels of his suit. “I'll leave you with that message from beyond the grave.”

The door closed behind the two men and Judd let out a breath.

“You did call it a message.” She lunged for the envelope. “I just figured it was another form or document that I have to sign—one in a tall stack of many.”

“I don't know what it is, London. I can hit the men's room if you want to read it in privacy.”

“Oh.” She fanned herself with the envelope. “If you think it's some sentimental missive from dear old Dad, you can relax. He did not roll that way.”

“Okay, then, I'm going to close out of this stuff I was going through, and we can get going—unless you need to handle anything from the meeting.”

“Nope. It's all being handled by other people. Other people can do this. Other people can do that.” She slipped her finger into the fold of the envelope and ripped across.

Judd hunched over the computer and closed some files. London had been chattering, and then she fell silent.

He looked up. Her eyes were huge glassy pools in her pale face.

“What's wrong?” He almost leaped across the desk, but her accusing tone stopped him.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

His fingers, wedged against the desk, curled into the wood. “What are you talking about?”

“This.” She waved a single sheet of paper at him. “Is this your idea of a joke?”

“London, I don't know what you're talking about.”

She flung the paper at him; it settled on the keyboard.

He picked it up by one corner and read it aloud. “‘Detective Joseph Brody is innocent of murder. At least tell his sons that. They deserve to know.'”

The paper slipped from his fingers, and the room tilted.

What the hell did his father have to do with Spencer Breck?

 

Chapter Eight

London blinked. Judd looked as dazed as she felt.

What did it mean? Why was her father's last communication to her about Joseph Brody? And what were the odds that one of Joseph Brody's sons would be standing right across from her while she received it?

“Y-you don't know anything about this?”

He fell heavily into the chair and plowed his fingers through his thick hair. “What do you mean? Know anything about it as if I wrote it and sent it? Is that what you think? Mary brought it. I never saw this note before in my life and I don't have a clue what your father knows about my father and why he'd tell you anything about it.”

“This is crazy.” She massaged her temples. “Why would he send me this note about your father after his death?”

“Could it be someone else playing a joke?”

“What kind of joke is this?”

“You tell me, since you just accused me of playing it on you.”

“Why would my father want to tell me this? And why didn't he just tell me while he was alive?”

“Did he ever mention the Phone Book Killer case or my father?”

“Not that I recall. Maybe he had some contact with your brother? The detective? He was a big supporter of the SFPD. He was close to Captain Williams. He was even on the police commission at one time.”

Judd leaned over in his chair and plucked the piece of paper up from the carpet where it had drifted. He smoothed it out on the desk. “I have no idea if he ever contacted Sean, but I intend to ask him.”

“My dad died before your other brother, Eric, uncovered the truth about the Phone Book Killer. Maybe if he had lived to see that day, he would've gotten rid of this note. But why write it in the first place? It's a crazy coincidence that I hired one of Joseph Brody's sons to protect me. Maybe Dad was guiding me the night of the benefit.”

“Do you believe that kind of stuff? My future sister-in-law is...sensitive that way.”

“Yes, I heard. She was involved in catching that occult serial killer after he kidnapped her daughter.” She gripped her upper arms and shivered.

“How far back was your father involved with the department?”

“Way far back, when my mother was still alive. There are some pictures at his house showing him and my mother at some police functions.” She snatched the picture on the desk and tapped it. “This is my father and Captain Williams.”

“Did the support start over twenty years ago?”

“Definitely. Is that when your father—”

“Yeah.” The line of his jaw hardened. “The note exonerates my father as the Phone Book Killer, but it doesn't explain why he jumped from the bridge.”

It always came back to that for Judd. He'd never be able to forgive his father. They had that in common.

“This is one of those freaky coincidences, or maybe your FBI sister-in-law is right—there are mysterious forces at work in the universe.”

“Those mysterious forces still don't explain how your father knew mine was innocent, and why he thought it was so important for you to impart this info to me and my brothers.”

“Maybe Mary knows.” She snapped her fingers. “Maybe Theodore knows. He was with my father almost as long as Mary was.”

“Then let's pay a visit to Theodore.”

A half an hour later, London tapped the toe of her shoe on the sidewalk as she watched Judd climb off his bike and secure his helmet to the side. The incongruity of the suit and the Harley only made Judd look hotter. If she hadn't been wearing this straight skirt, she would've climbed on the back again.

That had been the best part of these past few days—riding on the back of Judd's Harley. Actually, Judd had been the best part of these past few days—the past few months.

After reading her father's note, she had to believe the stars had fated her meeting with Judd the other night. He'd been with her when Theodore was attacked and when she'd discovered her ransacked home. He ran a hand through his hair and straightened his suit jacket. He didn't look much like a guardian angel, but he'd come through for her twice.

“How'd your taxi get here so fast?” The hospital doors slid open and Judd waved her through first.

“I think he figured the faster he went the better tip he'd get.”

“Did it work?”

“I'm a big tipper anyway. Last thing you want as a rich person is to get the reputation of a cheap tipper.”

“I'll remember that about rich people.”

“Some of them don't care. There are plenty of chintzy tippers among the rich.”

“I'll remember that, too.” He stabbed the elevator button. “You're giving me a lot of good information about rich people.”

“Ha.” She smacked the button for good measure. “I have a feeling you've been in contact with a lot of rich people in your line of work.”

“Yeah, but none have ever divulged the secrets of the rich to me before.”

The elevator doors opened and she stepped into the car. “I know. I talk too much.”

“You're the most normal rich person I've ever met. So there's that.”

She tossed back her hair and laughed. “Yeah, we're a strange bunch.”

“Nice to hear you laugh.” He cocked his head. “Does that mean you've dismissed the idea that I somehow engineered that note from your father?”

“I didn't think that.”

“Yeah, you did. You said it with your eyes and the tone of your voice. You thought I'd tricked you in some way.”

She smoothed her hand across her warm cheek. “The note surprised me, shocked me.”

“That's another thing about most rich people.”

“What's that?”

The doors opened and Judd smacked his hand against one side. “You always have to worry about people using you.”

She walked past him quickly, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. She'd exposed her weaknesses to him and must seem pathetic in his eyes. She shrugged. “Poor little rich girl should walk a mile in someone else's shoes, where the fear of feeding your family trumps the fear of being used for your money.”

“Hey.” Judd grabbed her arm. “I never said that. We all have our problems—rich and poor.”

Now he felt he had to make her feel better? She stopped in front of Theodore's room. “And Theodore has his problems.”

When they pushed through the door, a young woman sprang up from the chair beside Theodore's bed. “You must be London Breck.”

“And you must be Shannon.” She reached out and took Theodore's daughter's hand. “I'm so sorry this happened to your dad.”

“Dad's an ex-marine. He had no intention of backing off when those men tried to steal the car.”

Theodore grunted. “Those fellas messed with the wrong driver.”

London studied Theodore's bruised face. “You're looking a little better.”

Theodore grunted again. “Time to get out of this place. The food alone will kill you.”

London made a half turn toward Judd. “Shannon, this is Judd Brody.”

Shannon grabbed Judd's hand in both of hers. “Thank you so much. Dad told me you probably saved his life when you attended to him in that bar.”

“I wouldn't go that far. The paramedics got there fast.”

“I owe you one, Brody.” Theodore winced and sank against his pillows.

“And I owe you, London.” Shannon flung her arm to the side. “Dad's insurance doesn't cover this private room or the extra day he's been in here. The nurses' station out front said it had been taken care of, and I'm sure that means you.”

“Your father works for BGE and he's been a family friend for years.” London gripped the back of the plastic chair and leaned over it.

“Well, I appreciate it, and my sister and I appreciate that you called us right away.”

“I'm just glad you could come on such short notice. That's another thing, and I don't want any arguments. I'm paying your expenses.”

Shannon opened her mouth, but London stopped her with an upheld hand. If she couldn't do stuff like this with all the money she had, what was the point in having it? “It's done. Now, why don't you go get something to eat while I talk to your dad?”

Shannon's gaze traveled to Theodore, who waved his hand. “Go on, girl. I'm mighty tired of your fussing.”

Shannon wedged her hands on her hips. “You can have him, London.”

When Shannon closed the door, London skirted the chair and sat down. “Are you feeling better, Theodore?”

“Don't you start. I feel fine.”

“Good.” She pulled the envelope from her purse. “I have something to ask you about Dad.”

His eyes dropped to the envelope. “Fire away.”

“Did Dad ever say anything to you about Joseph Brody and the Phone Book Killer case?” If she expected surprise on Theodore's face, he didn't deliver. Her pulse ticked up a notch. “Did he?”

Theodore looked at Judd. “He knew about it—everyone did. He was even on the police commission at the time.”

“He was?” She scooted her chair closer. “What did he say about it then?”

“When some of that evidence came out against Brody—” Theodore's eyes shifted to Judd again “—he was surprised, like everyone else. Thought it was...unfortunate that a good detective had fooled everyone. Thought it was an embarrassment for the department.”

Judd braced one shoulder against the wall. “He believed in my father's guilt?”

“At the time I think he got caught up in it, but it turned out that first victim's husband was just trying to cover his tracks.”

London twisted the edge of the bedsheets. “We know that now, but are you telling us that Dad believed Joseph Brody was the Phone Book Killer?”

“He did. Sorry, man.”

Judd pushed off the wall. “No offense taken. A lot of people thought he was guilty. He killed himself—that sort of screams guilt.”

“That's weird.” She pulled the note from the envelope. “At one point, did Dad change his mind, and why?” She shook out the note and handed it to Theodore. “Looks as though he felt bad about it and wanted to somehow set the record straight.”

Theodore reached for his glasses on the bedside cart and put them on. He held up the note and scanned it. “Where'd you find this?”

“That's what's so strange. Mary Kowalski hand delivered it to me. Said Dad asked her to keep it and give it to me after he died.”

Theodore's forehead furrowed. “That doesn't make any sense.”

“Exactly. I thought you might be able to shed some light on it, but you've only added to the mystery.”

“Not really.” Judd shoved off the wall and loomed over Theodore's bed. “You said he was on the police commission at the time. Who else was on the commission?”

“Couldn't tell you that, but I'm sure you could find out. What are you aiming at?”

“I'm not sure. If he knew my father was innocent, maybe others on the commission knew it, too.” Judd blew out a breath and stepped back. “You know what? It doesn't really matter, does it? The real killer confessed to my brother, and my father's name has been cleared. How or why your father knew about it isn't an issue at this point, is it?”

London narrowed her eyes. For a minute there, Judd had dropped the pretense of not giving a hoot about his father's reputation, but he'd recovered himself nicely—back to the aloof, slightly sardonic, devil-may-care P.I.

“I just think it's weird that my father left me a note from the grave about this. Why not some warm words for me or remembrances of my mother? It's clearly something that bothered him.”

“Now your father's dead, my father's dead and his name has been cleared.” Judd's heavy lids fell over his eyes. “Doesn't matter.”

Theodore nodded. “I agree, London.”

“I guess I've been overruled here.” She snatched the letter from Theodore's lap and stuffed it back in the envelope. “Are you going back to Atlanta to see your other daughter when you get out of here? I know you have another grandson you haven't seen yet.”

“I know that tone of voice.” He rolled his eyes at Judd and winked. “Boss's orders?”

“Boss's orders.” London's lips twitched. Sometimes it was good to be the boss. “Let me know before you leave town. Call me at the office—something happened to my phone.”

She heard Judd's intake of breath but ignored him. She didn't want to tell Theodore about the break-in at her place or Griff's murder. He might get it into his head to stick around.

She had all the bodyguard she needed.

“I'll do that. If they let me out of here tomorrow, I'll probably take a few days to make arrangements before leaving.”

“Make sure you put all expenses on your BGE credit card—airfare, everything. I mean it.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

They waited until Shannon returned before leaving Theodore.

Judd turned to her at the elevator. “You didn't want to tell him what happened at your place?”

“I didn't want to worry him.”

“I agree. Nothing he could do about it anyway.”

They reached the lobby and Judd hesitated at the door. “Are you going straight back to your place?”

“Yeah.” She patted her stomach. “We never did have lunch.”

“I could use something to eat. I was going to stop by my office and get that equipment I mentioned yesterday. I still want to do a clean sweep for bugs at your place.”

“Why don't you do that, and we'll meet at a restaurant near your office for lunch. I can grab a taxi over.”

“There's a decent Italian place down the block from my place—Napoli's.”

“I know it. I'll get us a table.”

She snagged a taxi near the emergency room entrance as Judd took off on his bike. She gave the driver her location and collapsed in the backseat. Both Theodore and Judd had been quick to dismiss her father's note, but she couldn't do it. She and her father hadn't always gotten along, but she knew him. For him to leave a note with Mary to give to her after his death, it had to be something of great importance.